Reunion
by Enshante
Summary: Zuko's thoughts as he reunites with his mother. It's not how he imagined it. He's not sure how to feel about her new family or how to interact with Ursa now that she seems to have replaced him.


He wonders, briefly, if this is not worse than finding her dead. The moment the thought flashes through his mind, he regrets it—here he is, selfish as ever, in this moment when he should be happy. Happy! How could he be? The very memory of their past closeness taunts him. Ursa—his mother—once knew everything about him, and once he was everything to her. He's thought, hoped even, that he'd find her miserable, her life empty without him, her son. Instead, she's started afresh, replaced him with a new child that is whole and innocent and not the blood of a man she hates. Zuko understands, he does, and he knows he should not begrudge her this life—but begrudge he does, with every fiber of his being. _She's my mother_ he thinks. _She was_.

She looks at him now, and Zuko wonders how much of his thoughts are apparent on his face—he's never been good at hiding his emotions. More probably, she is not paying attention to his expression at all; she will be looking at his scar. Again, Zuko feels a surge of resentment untampered by his understanding. How horrified she must be to see her once handsome son thus changed. How disappointed. _It's her fault_, says a small voice inside of him. _She left, and let this happen_.

She approaches him then, and Zuko finds himself stiffening. He feels he ought to embrace her, but knows that doing so would be forced, awkward. He settles for eye contact, holding her gaze for a few unbearably long seconds before turning towards _them_—her new family. "You should go to them," he says, quietly. Ursa shakes her head. "Kiyi," she says, "…there will be time. But now I need to talk with my son." Zuko cannot bear her gaze. He is angry, furious that she should feign such concern for him when she has so willingly forgotten him entirely. And he is deeply ashamed of his scar in a way he has not been for a years. _My handsome warrior, she would call me. My beautiful boy._

"Zuko." She moves towards him, cups a hand to his face—to his scar—and Zuko flinches. Something in her eyes dims then, but she does not look away. "Zuko…" She is going to ask how he got it, and Zuko prepares himself to answer her. But when she speaks, it is not to question him. "I am sorry, so sorry, Zuko…what I said to Azula, I owe you an apology too. I am sorry for not—"

"You don't have to," Zuko interjects.

"—for not loving you enough. What kind of mother forgets her children?"

A thousand answers come to Zuko's mind, but in that instant he finds that his anger has dissipated. Perhaps it is that she looks so sad, and has grown so small. Perhaps it is that she did not ask how he got his scar. Zuko realizes that, even if she had not found a new life, things would never have returned to the way they were. And Ursa—his mother—had no way of knowing that Zuko would ever be in a position to find her. And while it still hurts—will always hurt—Zuko finds that he wants more than anything to forgive her.

"Don't say that," he tells her. She looks up at him, and there are tears in her eyes.

"But it's true," she says. "I left to protect you, it was the only way….but every day I feared for you, because I knew that Ozai…" her words trail off, her eyes drifting to the left side of his face. Zuko nods subtly, and Ursa looks deeply pained. "I didn't think I would ever see you and Azula again. I thought Ozai would tell you I had died, or raise you to hate me, but at least you'd be safe. It became so painful, knowing this and not knowing if you were safe and not being able to _do _anything."

Zuko takes her hand and squeezes it slightly. It is so much smaller than his own now. "It's okay mom," he whispers. "I understand."

She embraces him then, and Zuko hugs her back. He can feel his good eye tearing up, but thinks that now he must be strong. His mother pulls away slightly and gazes up at him. This time, Zuko neither flinches nor looks away. Ursa smiles.

"I may not have a right to this," she says, "But I'm proud of you, Zuko. You look so handsome." Zuko laughs involuntarily.

"You do," she says. "And strong. And sad, I think. I know this must cause you pain…" She gestures to her home, where Ikem is seated outside, watching them.

"No," says Zuko. "Well, yeah. Maybe. But I'm happy for you. Kiyi seems like a good kid."

"She is," Ursa says, smiling softly, "she's kind-hearted, and takes everything too seriously, and has a bit of a temper. She reminds me of you."

Zuko laughs again. "I wouldn't say I'm kind-hearted."

"No?"

"A lot has changed."

"Yes," Ursa sighs, "Yes, I know. But you're a good man. I can see that. Will you tell me what has happened?"

Zuko raises his eyebrow. "Will you tell me what happened to you?"

Ursa nods. "Come," she says, "let's walk."

She tells her story, then he tells his. He's grateful that she doesn't gasp or cry when he describes his first Agni Kai. She touches his scar, gingerly and without revulsion, then gently asks him if he can see, if he can hear, if it still hurts. When he has finished the walk in silence for a while, until Ursa first slips her hand into his then engulfs him in a hug. Zuko allows himself to bury his head in her shoulders. "Oh Zuko," Ursa whispers, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too."


End file.
